


Gasoline

by learninghowtobreathe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learninghowtobreathe/pseuds/learninghowtobreathe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire gets chosen into Hunger Games. Enjolras is one of the tributes. Will they kill each other or maybe...fall in love?</p>
<p>(fic is gonna be long and this is just a beginning)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I’d like to say I didn’t write any fics for ages so I may be a little out. Last time I read Hunger Games I was 17. Now I’m 21. I have terrible memory so sorry for that.  
> Also English is my second language so sorry for mistakes. Anyone interested in betaing me?
> 
> Con crit very much wanted, please tell me what to think and what to improve.

CHAPTER 1.

It was darkness and cold what woke him up. And thickness of wetness in the air.  
He was scared. Gods, he doesn’t thought he was ever this scared in his life. Fear had him in the choke hold, not letting him breathe.

He got up. His was sick of just lying in his bed and being afraid. It wasn’t like he could do anything, just another pin in Capitol’s sick game.

He put the kettle on the oven. There was nothing to eat again, when he had to choose food or booze the choice was obvious. At least he had this godawful vodka. He poured himself a considerable amount and drank it between lukewarm tea.  
He was supposed to dress nice today. He laughed to himself. What dressing nice even meant anymore? He had terrible hair, burned from the acid and dust in the coal mine, matte and stiff. His skin was pale like chalk, he didn’t see any sun for ages. And all his clothes were ripped and destroyed in one way or another. What dressing nice even meant.

Air was ice cold in the bathroom and water even colder. He didn’t even remember the last time he felt warm water on his skin. Washing hair in cold water was hopeless, just as washing off smudges on his face. He would try to use alcohol for that but it was too valuable right now.  
His best jeans, not yet ripped and not that dirty would have to be enough. It was better than fabric pants he hated. It made him look fat. It amused him how in the dying world and ever present terror he still could be vain.

3 hours to go. 

Too much time on his hands. He sat down, trying not to think. His last reaping. He was almost 20, would be safe if not the fact his birthday came too late. Last time. Maybe he would be safe anyway. He had fifty-five entries, terrifying fact. Maybe that was selfish what he did, he didn’t have any family to care for anymore, maybe last five entries were unnecessary. Maybe it would be better for him to starve. Less painful death. Who knew how he will die in the Games.

His father died in the mine explosion. Most common way to die in District 12, so many died this way he wasn’t even surprised when bad news came. Then his mother killed herself. She was in the Games at age 16, memories turned out to be too painful, she couldn’t do it anymore. She hanged herself in her bedroom, not even leaving a note.  
He was left alone, nobody but his cat he could barely feed. Started work in the mine as the only way to survive. Exchanged his safety for food. Survived all these last reapings. And now, today, he was so sure that he would be chosen for Games he already made his peace with that.

When the hour came he went slowly toward the market. Seeing Jehan in the crowd, flower crown on his fair head, his long hair braided neatly and falling on his arm, he waved to his friend. Jehan was lucky. He only had five entries. His family was big but he has older brothers caring for him and his parents at place to make him considerably safe.  
“Are you scared?” He asked, biting his lips. Unnecessary question, just to say something, to fill the silence.  
“Like never before.” Grantaire shrugged. “But really, there’s nothing to do here so what’s the point.”  
Jehan silently entwined his fingers with his, and so they went, parting in the end when he had to rejoin his family.

In the crowd of people, of scared, lost teenagers, he felt lost and so very old. So very out of place. They could all go home, he was the one to die there today. Well, not today. But soon.

He tuned out for the whole speech and only woke up when the draw begin. He heard the name being read, and pale, trembling, dark haired girl in shock going out of the crowd. Eponine Thenardier. She looked no more than 16.

And really, when he heard his own name he wasn’t even surprised, just like he was ready all along. 

***


	2. CHAPTER 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here’s the thing. This fic is gonna have an awful amount of OCs. The thing is ExR is my ship forever but I don’t really feel that comfortable writing about all of les amis, I don’t really feel some of them. I hope you’ll still like it and let me know if anything is wrong.

The rest was a blur. He didn’t really had anyone to say goodbye to. It all seemed too surreal.

They let Jehan in, pale small figure with eyes red from crying.  
“Take care of my cat, okay?” R asked, his voice plain and unaffected. Inside he was trembling from fear but he was determined not to show it. “If I…” He looked him in the eyes. “If… Just take care of Achilles.”   
“I will.” He nodded solemnly. “But you’ll come back, right?”

Crying was not appropriate in this moment, he thought, he had so little time…

“I will.” He promised. And he knew it was a lie. “I’ll come back.”

  
* * *  
First thing he noticed, ever, was how different was this train from everything he ever saw in his life.Sure, he have had TV and saw Capitol’s luxuries there, but that was different. Now he could touch them.

One more thing to scratch from his bucket list, he thought bitterly.

  
Bedroom he got was huge. And there was hot water in the bathroom. He laughed to himself standing in the shower. At least he’ll die clean from all the coal dust, for once in his life.

  
First night he didn’t sleep. He wondered what Eponine was doing. She was this younger from him, he had four years advantage and lived for this more. He was stronger, probably faster. She won’t last long. He hated himself for thinking in these terms, but he couldn’t help it. He lied alone in the darkness and thought about his mother. She would be devastated he was chosen. She would probably die of fear. Why she decided to bring him to this world after what she saw was unfathomable to him. Why she refused to live In better house, in better place, after she won was unfathomable for him as well. Why she stayed in her old home, why she got married to a man who was waiting for her, why she had a kid. How could she do it to him.

  
Morning came late for him, when he dragged himself to the table.   
Eponine was already there. Small, dark haired figure in dress torn a bit on one arm. There was everything there for them, why wasn’t clothes? She didn’t smile, she just looked him in the eyes, like she was challenging him. Maybe she was. Good. He didn’t feel like smiling either.

Two mentors were there already too. He knew them well, after so many reapings their faces was like faces of his friends. Well, if you can hope never to see faces of your friends again. 

Artemis looked at him with her one eye, her white, looking like bleached skin looking even whiter in unwelcoming morning light. She wasn’t sober, he realized, but he didn’t see any alcohol anywhere on the table. Maybe it wasn’t vodka what she was losing her mind to.

Felix looked at him coldly. For nine years he never smiled only once, at least not when R could see it. His arm prosthetics was one you could see in Capitol, with eerie lights and glass fragments.  
“You’re late.” He said. “If you want to die sooner than later feel free to lie in your bed for whole day.”  
R didn’t feel like apologizing. He didn’t feel like anything, really.   
Everyone looked so angry. 

“Are you gonna say something to us, or what?” Eponine furrowed her thick eyebrows at the mentors. “Give us advice?”  
“Get killed faster and it’ll be over sooner.” Artemis looked her in the eye. “Or even better, die on your own terms.”  
“What if I don’t want to die?”   
“That’s a bummer then, don’t you think?”  
“Do you even know something?” Grantaire sat by the table. There was food. Gods, he didn’t see real food for years. “Who’s our opponents. Or, how to win. You won after all?”  
“Do I look like a winner?” Felix moved his prothetics arm. “If you’re lucky you’ll come back. Without an arm and leg like me. And you’ll lose your mind. Does that seem like winning?”  
“You’re alive so it does for me.” He shrugged.   
“I would suggest you think what you’re best at. Fist fight? Camouflage? Climbling? It’s all you can do.”  
“What if I’m not good at anything.” R really felt like Eponine just wanted to argue. “What if all I can do is run.”  
“Then you better run goddamn fast.” 

They didn’t say anything more so R just looked at the window. District's 4 cities were a blur in front of his eyes. He had never seen it besieds TV. 

He shouldn't feel like that but it felt like most bizarre sight-seeing trip ever.  
***

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Check me out at l-earninghowtobreathe.tumblr.com.


End file.
